Sober Sparrow
by Tootsiepop254
Summary: I posted this back in '07, pulled it off last year.. and now it's back!  Drabbles concerning the most popular pirate to sail the seas...
1. Sober Sparrow?

Ok. I published this first back in... '07, I think it was. Pulled it down for some reason or other, and it disappeared. * Poof * Off my computer to remain a distant memory I had no hope of calling up ever again.

Until tonight, when I went hunting in the forgotten realms of the old desktop for something completely unrelated. So here it is, once again. I found only two chapters, I could have sworn there were more originally?

Anyways, I DO remember that I had asked my readers to mail me with suggestions/situations for the good Capt. Sparrow to find himself in. That offer still stands, and if I write it, you will be credited with the idea.

Sorry for the extended vacation, I found myself stuck in a reality where not only was I a busy single mom, but a busy single mom of a Cub Scout, and with a full time job as well. Still a mom, still employed, but with internet at my house and the chance to actually use it now!

Ah, well, back to the story now. As always, R&R.

XxX

Jack stepped onto the ground of Tortouga and took a deep breath. Immediately the smell of stale alcohol hit his nose. How he loved that pungent odor!

"Remember matees, we shove off at dawn in two days, so don't get _too _drunk." Jack admonished, waving to his crew after leaving instructions for restocking of the ship.

"Ha! Just make sure that you show up on time, Captain Sparrow," retorted Ann Maria, inciting a laugh from the crew. It was common knowledge that their much-loved captain was a hopeless drunk. Every time anyone saw the captain, he had a hand wrapped around a bottle of rum. Anna Maria was starting to worry about Jack's health. Lately, his skin had taken on a sickly yellow color. There was no hope for it though, as NOBODY told Captain Jack Sparrow to lay off the rum. Anna Maria shook her head and got back to work.

"Aah, me firs' luv," Jack muttered, walking into a noisy pub. He bought a bottle of rum, took a swig, and looked around, taking the various displays of drunken chaos. Not feeling like the usual brawl, he decided to take his bottle someplace quieter – if such a place existed on the rowdy island.

Finally, after walking (staggering, really) around half the island, Jack managed to find a secluded area. He sat on a rock and took a long drink of rum.

He almost fell off his rock when a large orange cat burst out of the bushes. It was chasing a… _what the hell?_ _Was that a blue... rat?_

Jumping up, Jack kicked the cat across the clearing.

"Thank you sir!"

"Err…" Jack bent down to look at the little blue… _thing_. It was about three inches tall, blue, and wore a white shirt and hat. "Do you mind.. What the bloody 'ell are you?" He asked it.

"Why I'm a Smurf, of course!" it answered excitedly. "Thank you for scaring off Azrael. Now I have to get back, Papa Smurf, he's expecting me! Thanks again!" And with that, the little smurf ran back in the direction he came from.

Jack looked at his half empty bottle. He looked at the bushes. He dumped the bottle out.

"Captain, what the hell happened to you?" Anna Maria asked the grumpy captain two days later. It was painfully obvious to everyone on board the Black Pearl that for the first time in years, their captain was _sober. _

"Mind your own business, girl," growled Jack. "I'm done drinkin', that's all you need to know."

"Aye, Captain."

As she turned back to her work, Anna Maria glanced at her captain. He was harsher than usual on his crew, and had bags under his eyes, proof of sleepless nights. She also saw how he stood straighter, and looked healthy. As healthy as a pirate can be, that is. She wondered what had happened to Jack to make the worldly pirate put down the bottle, then smiled and shrugged. Whatever it was, it was a good thing.

Jack watched his crew sneaking peeks at him, wondering why he was without his rum, and smiled. There was no way he was going to tell them.


	2. Revenge of the Lawn Gnome

**A/N: **NOW I know why I pulled them down – atrocious spelling and grammar. I planned to fix it and repost. Oops.

Disclaimer: I wish!

OoOoOo

The Black Pearl cut smoothly through the choppy waters, leaving behind the wounded merchant ship. Everyone was happy, as the heist had gone rather well. Nobody had been hurt, and the ship had been well loaded with valuables. The crew went about doing what the crew did, and the captain stood at the helm, humming an old familiar song.

It had been three months since that fateful day in Tortouga, the last day Captain Jack Sparrow had had a drink of anything stronger than tea. Sure the urge was there, but so were the disturbing memories, and those were far stronger. It was said that too much drink could addle a man's brain, but Jack wasn't - no, _couldn't_ - be that kind of man, could he?

His train of thought was broken by his first mate. "...rest, Jack."

"Huh?" Jack asked. Gibbs sighed. His captain and best friend had been rather distant since they shoved off from Tortouga. He wondered what could have shaken him so badly. "I said, that ye should go down below and rest. Ye've been up 'ere for a right long time. We won't dare crash your ship."

Chuckling, Jack relinquished the helm to Anna Maria and went to his quarters. Truthfully, he _was_ tired, and a rest sounded great. He had just walked in when he noticed something amiss. Sitting square in the middle of his bed was a small statue. It was a funny characterization of a warped person, wearing a red coat and a green pointed hat. It had overly large eyes and an even larger mouth, sporting a gentle smile. The captain frowned, picked it up and walked back out onto the deck, straight up to Gibbs.

"What the blazes is this?" He questioned, holding it up. Gibbs looked it over. "Wasn't this on that ship? Did you bring it over?" he asked, scratching his head.

"Why the bloody 'ell would _I_ bring somethin' like this aboard? I don't even know what it is!" Jack said, irritation creeping into his voice. Honestly, he got enough looks from his crew lately. He didnt need them thinking he had an affinity for strange objects, unless they were valuable. Anna Maria came over at the sound of her captain's voice. Looking at her hopefully, Jack held the wooden statue out to her. "What is this?"

Anna Maria looked at it carefully. "I beleive its called a lawn gnome. People place them in their gardens, and they are supposed to be good luck. What are you doing with one, Jack?"

"The hell do I know?" Jack looked around, and spying several of his crew who were watching the exchange with amusement growled, "Back to work you scabberous dogs!" Handing Anna Maria the lawn gnome, Jack walked back into his room, laid down, and promptly fell asleep.

OoOoOo

Jack opened his eyes, judging it to be about mid morning. 'Damn' he thought, sitting up and rubbing sleep from his eyes, 'I must have been more exhausted than I though. By the light, that makes it about twelve hours I've been alseep.' Jack stood and stretched, working the kinks out of his limbs. He was just about to leave his cabin, when something caught his eye. He walked over and picked the gnome up, stalking out and over to Gibbs. "I do not want this in my cabin. You may have it if you are so fond of it. I will be eatin' me grub, if you should need me." With that, Jack left the bewildered first mate holding the gnome, not letting him say a word in his defense. Gibbs stood still a moment, then shook his head. He set the gnome down by the mast, and went back to work.

"Damnit Gibbs!" yelled Jack later that day, stalking out of his cabin and over to Gibbs, who was sitting with Anna Maria and several other pirates, "I told you that I did not want this bloody thing-" he thrust the offending gnome at Gibbs, "-in my cabin! Who is responsible for this?" he finished, glaring at the pirates.

The men -and woman- looked at each other, their looks filled with confusion. "Uh, Sir," began one of the pirates (his name was Knobs, Jack remembered) began tentatively. "I dun thin' none of us touched the critter." The others nodded enthusiastically. Jack glared around, trying to catch a hint of amusement. He saw nothing. "See that this does _not_ get back into my room again, or the offending party will have a very long swim." Seeing the men gulp in nervous understanding, Jack nodded in satisfaction and walked off to another part of the ship, once again leaving the grinning gnome with Gibbs.

OoOoOo

"!" The crew jumped at their captain's scream. Seconds later, a very angry, pale Jackrushed out of his cabin, holding a now - very familiar gnome.

_(Flashback)_

For two days, the gnome had mysteriously found itself in Jack Sparrow's cabin. The crew continued to proclaim their innocence, even amongst each other. On the morning of the third day, the captain had awoken from a fitful sleep, plagued by grinning gnomes chasing him, only to roll over and stare into a pair of bright blue pained eyes. That damned gnome had to go! Without a word, Jack had walked out of his cabin, across the deck, and threw the wildly grinning gnome out into the ocean. Wiping his hands, he calmly walked back to his cabin...

Only to scream and rush right back out, the horrible creature in his grasp.

_(End Flashback)_

"Maybe its not the same gnome?" Gibbs said hopefully. Alas, it was painfully obvious, it _was_ the same gnome. It was still dripping sea water, and its pointed hat was adorned with seaweed.

Jack didn't say anything. He stared in mute horror at the gnome in his hands. Then he started to grin. It wasn't a pleasant grin. The crew who saw this grin (which oddly enough matched the grin of the creature in his hands) moved away uneasily. "How far are we from Port Royale?" he shouted, making some of his increasingly skittish crew jump.

"Th.. three days, Cap'n." Anna Maria stuttered.

"Very good. We're changin' directions, lads. There's somethin' I 'ave to take care of at the Port." With that, Jack (and the gnome) walked back into his cabin, where Jack set the wooden terror down on his desk. "Be right back, ye little devil," he muttered. "I need ye to help me out with somethin'." With that he walked out and retook the helm. He didn't return until they sighted Port Royale. His eye twitched as he picked up the smirking gnome, and went back on deck, giving instructions for hiding the ship, and that he would return before nightfall.

"Jack!"

"Good day Will. Damn its hot in here." replied Jack, wiping his sweating face. "How is the lovely Miss Swan?"

"She's fine, we are to be married soon." came the reply. "Jack, what are you doing here? The entire navy is looking for you!"

"Settle down lad. As a matter of fact, I have a little gift for the esteemed Commodore, as it were," replied Jack, holding out the gnome.

"Are you drunk? You can't just walk up to the Commodore and - what _is_ that, anyway?"

"For your information, I no longer drink," came the smooth reply. Will sniffed, realizing that he couldn't smell any rum, and his friend's eyes were surprisingly clear. "And this is called a lawn gnome. Don't worry, I have it all worked out. Well, I'd best be off," said Jack. "Jes' wanted to stop by and say hello to me old friend." With that Jack walked out of the forge and into the night.

OoOoOo

Jack made it back to the ship just before nightfall, minus the gnome. He gave the orders to take off, ignoring the questioning glances from the crew.

OoOoOo

The butler answered the door, but no one was there. Looking down, he saw a small package on the stoop. He picked it up and brought it to his employer, who unwrapped the package, to see a small humanoid statue. He stared at it for a minute in disbelief, taking in the soft smile, bright blue eyes, and pointed hat. Then he picked up the note that had fallen from the wrapping and read.

_Dear Commodore;_

_I hope you are well. Still sorry over the whole Elizabeth business, I was rooting for you the whole time mate. Hope you like your new Garden Gnome; he should love you. Best of Luck._

_Sincerely,_

_Captain Jack Sparrow_

Commodore Norrington set the letter down. Jack Sparrow had been _here_! He looked again at the gnome. Was it his imagination, or was the gnome's smile a little bigger...


End file.
